


More Courageous to Overcome

by mysteriouslypeculiar



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, actually i'll link it in the notes at the end whoops the description is super long, and did NOT wait for an answer, and he is, go check out my spotify playlist i made for him. ill link it in the description, i saw fabian and said 'is anyone gonna hc him with mental health issues?', i saw fabian and said 'you wILL be my self-indulgent projection character', this is a really rough fic i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriouslypeculiar/pseuds/mysteriouslypeculiar
Summary: Fabian has a not good, very bad day. But, like, this time without pirates and instead it’s just Normal Teen Life, baby.Ask anyone who’d answer, and they’d tell you the same thing. Fabian’s life ruled. He was rich, successful, the son of a world-famous pirate. His name commanded respect and he used it often.Fabian was strong, the star quarterback of the Owlbears at 16. He was brave, the de facto, unspoken leader of The Bad Kids.Strong. Brave. A natural leader.Fabian’s life ruled.So why did he feel like this?Why did he feel so...empty? So...blank?They say the way to tell the difference between a real smile and a fake one was by the eyes.Well, Fabian was already halfway hidden.They say the eyes crinkle when the smile is true.Well, Fabian could squint his good eye.
Relationships: Riz Gukgak & Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	More Courageous to Overcome

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS:
> 
> WARNING: this fic centers around one's struggle with a eating disorder, namely Anorexia Nervosa, as well as with self-harm. Please take that into consideration before proceeding.
> 
> This fic is composed of my own experiences, as well as some experiences I've read/collected from documentaries and memoirs.
> 
> If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please contact this hotline: (800)-931-2237 or (800)-931-2237 for texting. As well you can check out this blog for resources on recovery: https://100reasonstorecover-blog.tumblr.com/post/78119934465/eating-disorder-recovery-websites
> 
> As well, if you or someone you know is struggling with self-harm, please seek help.
> 
> I love you and you're amazing. My tumblr is @ mysteriouslypeculiar , so if you ever want to chat, I'm here!

Fabian was fine. He had everything under control. He knew what he was doing and he was controlling it. 

So why did he feel like this?

Why did he feel so out of control? Why did he feel so weak? Why wasn’t it working? 

Fabian was strong. He lifted his sword with ease and elegance, fighting with beauty and turning the fight into a dance. 

Fabian was weak. He fell to the ground, arms spasming from strain as he tried to rise into another hundred pushups. 

He felt his dry tongue touch the corner of his cracked lips, feeling dry foam sinking into the creases. 

He couldn’t drink water. Couldn’t give up. He needed to be empty. It had to be true.

The number had to be true. 

Aelwyn would be over in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. Or was that the last time he checked?

Fabian rolled over, giving up on his push-ups. 619. He should do one more. Make it even. One more. Do one more. _Do one more_. He should do another. Justonemore. Just onemoreonemoreonemore. 

His arms shake as he begins to lift himself up, trying to will himself into position. 

The floor vibrates as his phone receives a text, toppling the card-tower of his weak will. 

Aelwyn ;p: **_omw. u ready?_ **

A wave of nausea goes through him. 

No. Not yet. He’s not empty. He needs to be empty. 

**_Of course!_ **

He replies. A lie. 

What isn’t, these days?

It hadn’t started like this. It had started so simple. So easy. 

“I can _not_ look like this for Sam’s party.”

Aelwyn stared at the standing mirror, hands pressed to her stomach. 

“Like what?” 

Fabian doesn’t lift his head up from his bed, eyes focused on his phone. 

“Like... _this_.” Aelwyn said, as if that cleared everything up. 

She turned around, facing Fabian, her hands still pressed to her stomach. 

“I look like a blob, Fabian.” 

“You do not.” 

“I do so.” She huffed and went back to inspecting her appearance in his mirror. “And you didn’t even look.”

“I don’t have to. You always look perfect.” 

Fabian had learned that that’s what she wanted to hear. Never agree. She looked perfect. Of course she did. Aelwyn was perfect. Aelwyn was everything he wanted. 

“I _need_ to go on a diet.”

“Aelwyn, you look _fine_.”

Fabian could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“I don’t want to look fine. I want to look perfect.” She turned and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge. 

“You already do.” Fabian said. “Although...you _could_ look better without all those layers…” He slipped his fingers under the hem of her tank top. 

“Fabian, we can fuck later-”

Fabian spluttered and withdrew his hand, running it through his hair.

“-I’m being serious. I’m going on a diet.”

“You don’t need to-”

“You should join me! It’ll be fun!” 

She pulled out her phone, tapping away as she spoke. 

“We can help each other, encouraging each other to keep on track.” She winked at him. “And plus, what’s a little competition?”

Something in Fabian clicked into place. He pushed himself up, into a sitting position. 

“Fine. What’s the plan?” 

The first month went with ease. Their competitive spirits fit together far too well, the contest taking to Fabian like flame to gasoline. 

Aelwyn comes by on Fridays for their weekly ‘date night’. That’s what they tell their friends. 

She brings her scale, and they measure their weights.

She’s lower. She’s always lower. 

And rationally, that makes sense. She’s shorter than him, and is a full high elf.

**

_“Always a..hefty bunch, humans, no?”_

_His mother lifts her goblet, looking up at Fabian with a distant expression._

_“I suppose so, mama.”_

_“Your father was always so big and...robust.” She looks him in the eye- a gesture she hasn’t done since he lost his right. “I see him in you. So much human blood in you, my son.”_

_“Yes, mama. I-..I’m proud to be his son. To share his blood.”_

_She nods, and she looks away._

_“Though, to be a dancer, you might want to regard your Elven heritage.”_

_“Of course Mama, I-I do.”_

_“The Elven dancers from Kei Lumennura were always so...graceful. So lithe...dancing like they were floating.”_

_Her voice fades away, as does she. Her eyes slip closed, and she falls back into a drunken haze._

**

And Fabian is half human. He has to work harder. He has to prove himself. 

He stands up, grabbing at nothing as his vision dots with stars, starry night creeping across his one eye, and the floor turns under him. 

_Close your eye, count to ten, breathe in, count to ten, breathe out, open your eye._

The stars are gone, the night receding and the floorboards returning him to right-side-up. 

He runs his hand through his hair, pretending that was the reason it was stuck aimlessly in the air. 

_If he was going to fall he would have. There was nothing to grab. He would have fallen._

He walks to the bathroom adjacent from his luxurious lonely room and empties his stomach. 

He needed to be perfect.

Aelwyn comes and goes. She’s lower than him. She’s always lower than him. 

_Always a hefty bunch, humans_

He needed to work harder. He wasn’t trying hard enough. 

Less. Less. He needed to eat less. 

He didn’t even deserve to eat, anyway. Why should he? What did he do to deserve what he got? His friends were right. 

What did The Ball do when he wanted something done? What would The Ball do? He was always so put together. He did everything right.

Fabian opened the notes app on his crystal and made a list. He made rules and guidelines and regulations for himself. The reason he was failing was because he didn’t know how to win. And now he knew how to win. Follow the rules. 

_“It’s a matter of calories”_ Fabian said, sitting at the lunch table with the other Bad Kids, as they stared at his lunch tray. 

“Dude, there’s like no calories in that though.” Fig replied, waving her hand over the salad he had prepared. Her own tray was piled high with whatever it was they served at the school cafeteria. _(pizza [330], fries [200], a stomach-turning amount of ketchup [40], a chocolate chip cookie [80])_

“Well, that’s the point.” Fabian waved her away as he took in his friend’s lunches, in comparison to his own.

Jawbone packed Adaine and Kristen’s lunches. 

_Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. No crust. Cut into different shapes everyday. (360) Applesauce (166) Pretzels (110) baby carrots (48) capri sun (60) - > 744 _

Gorgug gets school lunch, but Ragh always slipped him extra protein

_Pizza (330), fries (200), beef tips, rare (230) - >760 _

Fig alternated between packed Jawbone special, or school. 

_Pizza (330), fries (200), ketchup (40), cookie, chocolate chip, (80) - > 650 _

The Ball… The Ball ate whatever he had. It was always different. 

_Tupperware of pasta (430?), leftover pizza in tinfoil (330), a very bruised banana (105)- > 856 _

Fabian had a salad.

_Lettuce (5), tomato (22), cucumber (15), carrot (30), bell pepper (31) - > 103 _

“Fabian that’s practically nothing.” Adaine added her two cents. 

She should see what her sister eats, Fabian thought, darkly. Lightning shot through his body as he remembered the next weigh-in. 

_Half. Only eat half. You can do this._

“Yeah, man, you need some protein.” Gorgug leaned over, inspecting Fabian’s plate. “Here, want some of mine? Ragh always packs so much.” 

Gorgug reached for the tupperware container, ( _half-eaten. 115_ ), but Fabian interrupted

“No,” He said, maybe a tad too loud. A tad too panicked. “No,” he repeated, taking a breath to maintain his composure. “I’m okay. I had a huge breakfast, you know? Cathilda was trying to teach mama a new recipe. They made too much.” 

The lie satiated them, his friends taking it without a miniscule of doubt. 

Why would they have any? Fabian’s life ruled. He was rich. Spoiled rotten. Doted on by his drunk mother and dead father. 

_**_

_His mom hadn’t even been coherent when Fabian left, let alone able to prepare a meal under Cathilda’s skilled guide. Cathilda was doting on Mama, wiping the vomit off the edges of her lip. There was no one to notice him slip out the door, no one to prepare the breakfast he would leave to get cold and then put in the fridge for Gilear._

**

“Ugh, Fabian, you’re so lucky you have Cathilda. She’s so cool.” Kristen said, leaning back as she swiped a carrot from Adaine. 

“You literally have your own.” Adaine said.

“Yeah, but yours taste better.” 

Adaine mage-handed a carrot from Kristen plate, and she attempted to eat it in mid-air. 

Fig cheered.

Fabian discarded half his salad into a napkin. _(-52 - >51) _

A normal lunch. 

The lunch period drew to an end, conversions shifting and changing, one never ending as they speak over each other. 

Fig pockets half her cookie for Ayda. Kristen has half a bag of pretzels left. Gorgug puts the empty tupperware back into his bag. The Ball leaves nothing but the tinfoil, which he straightens out, folds, and puts back into his briefcase. 

_The briefcase Fabian bought him. Fabian bought him the magical briefcase, and then Fabian wrote the business cards Riz uses to promote his official Private Investigator’s license._

Fabian chugs the rest of his water, willing the liquid to fill the emptiness in his stomach that the lettuce and tomatoes refused to inhabit. 

He felt a presence following him as he walked to his fifth period battle-readiness class, and Fabian turned to see The Ball, ears pressed flat as he walked behind him in the halls. 

“Don’t you have your rogue class in five minutes?”

_Fabian knew The Ball’s schedule as well as his own._

“We get extra credit if we can sneak in un-noticed.” The Ball responded, ears flitting back upwards as he stopped trying to be stealthy. Did he even realize he did it? 

Fabian hummed in response. He didn’t question why The Ball was following him. He didn’t want him to leave his side. Fabian felt better with The Ball at his side. Stronger

**

 _He needed strength lately. Everything felt harder lately. Fighting. Running. Walking._ _Breathing_ _. He could barely last a fight in his battle-preparedness class, and his performance on the Bloodrush field was dwindling. He was letting everyone down._

_The other day, he was disarmed in Battle prep. And his combatants sword skitted across his and hit his chest. If it had been real, he would have died._

_If he was being honest, he couldn’t see that as a bad thing._

**

It was quiet for a second, or, as quiet as the halls of an adventuring high school could get. Then The Ball spoke up. 

“Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

Fabian stopped walking, momentarily frozen in place. 

_Did someone cast hold person? Where was his invisible assailant? Why was his heart beating so fast? Is this a heart attack?Was he dying?_

“Fabian?” The Ball asked, his voice far away yet crystal clear, the sound waves tethering to Fabian’s subconscious, pulling him out of his mind and into the present. 

“What?” He asked, voice cracking a bit. 

_His heart was beating too fast. His stomach turned. His lungs burned. Was he dying? Is this what dying felt like?_

“You okay?” The Ball’s hand went to Fabian’s arm, dull claws pressing into his jacket sleeves. 

_Close your eyes, count to ten, breathe in, count to ten, breathe out, open your eyes._

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Fabian said, his breathing returning to normal. “Just have a bit of a headache.” 

He rubbed his forehead, squinting his eye. Seal the deal. He is trying to deceive the deceiver. 

The Ball didn’t fully buy it, evident by his eyebrow raise, and head tilt. 

“Headache?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“And you didn’t eat lunch because....?”

_Breathe in for ten. Out for ten._

“I did eat lunch, The Ball. And I told you. Big breakfast. And if I get hungry later I get something from the vending machines. It’s fine.”

He was rich. Spoiled. He was Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He could hire a private chef to prepare caviar and filet mignon. He could have gold-encrusted oysters fresh from the Celestine itself. Of course, that’s what everyone thought. Why would they question Fabian?

“You ate half of it. I watched you wipe the rest into napkins.” 

Fabian began walking again, The Ball keeping pace. 

“The Ball, can we do this later?”

“No. I want you to tell me why you didn’t eat lunch today.”

“Maybe I’m saving room for later.” Fabian said, turning to look The Ball in the eye. Anger flared in his stomach. Why was The Ball being such a thorn in his side? Why wouldn’t he just let Fabian do what he needed to do? “Maybe I have a date with Aelwyn tonight and I’m saving up room.”

The Ball looked momentarily hurt, ears tilting down and eyes widening, but it was gone as soon as it was there. 

“You don’t need to save up-”

“Yeah, I do. You just wouldn’t understand.”

“Fabian-” 

“I have to get to class, The Ball. Please, we can talk about this later.”

_A crowd was gathering. People were watching them. Staring at them. Judging. They were watching Fabian, watching and waiting for him to mess up, eyes piercing him like lazerbeams, scalding their paths into his flesh._

“Fabian, wait-”

“Please, Riz.” His voice went soft. “Let’s talk about this later. At home. Please.”

_Pathetic. Proving himself pathetic. Seacasters don’t plead. Men don’t plead._

The Ball nodded, taking in Fabian’s tone, and backed up. 

“Later. At home.” 

Fabian let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and stopped walking, having reached the gymnasium. 

“Yours or mine?” The Ball asked, as the warning bell rang. 

Fabian’s mind flitted to his mama, drunk on the chaise lounge as Cathilda doted on her.

“Yours.”

The Ball looked surprised, momentarily, but like before, the emotion was gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

“Meet at Basrars first?”

_No. No._

The fear must have been visible from a mile away, or perhaps The Ball was just that good on his insight, because he quickly added: “We don’t need to get anything. Just to meet up.”

Fabian nodded, trying to get his heart to go back to a normal pace. This conversation had not been very good for his health. 

The Ball smiled softly, patted Fabian’s arm and then turned around. 

“See you then.” He called out, before disappearing into the shadows. 

Fabian smiled to himself, his arm warm where The Ball had just been. 

The bell rang, startling him, and he rushed into the gym. 

Gorthalax grins as Fabian runs in, greeting him warmly and patting him on the back. He asks Fabian to lead the demonstration, and Fabian nods, rushing to the locker rooms to change, before leaping into combat with a senior and quickly disarming him.

In less than a minute, he’s gotten his practice sword into the seam of his partner’s armor and digging it in, a fatal blow, had it been real. 

Gorthalax laughs, clapping his hands loudly as Fabian withdraws his sword and drops it to the padded gym floor. 

“Another battle well fought, Mr. Seacaster.” His voice bellows. It sounds so far away. 

_Breathe in. Breath out. The darkness will fade. The dots will fade. Breathe in. Breathe out._

**_Why wasn’t it working?_ **

His vision blurs with spots, nighttime taking his eye again. He reaches his arm out, trying to balance himself. The ground begins to sway, and then he’s on the floor. Or, he thinks he’s on the floor. 

“Woah there, bud. You alright?” Gorthalax’s voice cuts through Fabian’s dizzy thoughts. He’s propped up against Gorthalax, his strong arms wrapped around his shoulder in a half-hug. 

He quickly moves away, 

_Everyone’s watching. They think you’re weak. Pathetic._

and brushes himself off, the dots still in his vision, the night time sky adamantly staying. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Think I’m dehydrated. I’ll go get some water.” 

Gorthalax nods, blows his whistle.

“See everyone, that’s why water’s so important. Gotta stay hydrated.” And then, quietly to Fabian: “Go get some water, Fabian. Take the rest of class off. Go sit down, okay? If you feel light headed we can get you some juice. Dehydration is no joke.”

Fabian nodded and jogged off, into the locker room. 

Fabian barely registered the chill of the locker room as he shed his gym jacket, hands shaking and head swimming. 

_Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Four_

He struggled with the lock, turning and turning and turning it, fingers slipping on the cool metal. His heart pounded in his chest. His lungs burned as his breathing became shallow. 

_Breathe out. Ten. Nine EightSeven_

Fabian let out a shaky breath and pressed his forehead against the smooth aluminum of the locker door, closing his eyes and holding himself still as he tried to steady his breathing. 

_He was okay. He was okay. He was okay._

He opened his eyes and stepped back, trying his combination again, his hands no longer shaking. 

He all but threw his gym clothes into the locker, pulling his regular clothes from underneath the messy pile. 

**

_His sweats were getting looser. He needed to tie them to keep them up._

_His muscle shirt hung from his frame. There was blood at the hem._

**

As he reached for his jacket, he stumbled, the sleeve catching on the edge of the locker. 

Something clattered to the floor, a metallic chime echoing throughout the empty locker room as the object hit the tile. 

Fabian’s stomach dropped and in a flash he reached down to grab his

**

_“...razor. Here, my darling boy. For the growing man.”_

_His father handed him the men’s shaving razor, pride gleaming on his face._

_“Oh, uh, thank you, Papa.” Fabian had replied, taking the steel blade._

_He weighed it in his hand. It was heavier than he would have expected. Sturdy._

_“I supposed you’d be needing one, seeing as how you’re growing into your own man, ay?” He chuckled, and Fabian did as well, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the gleaming silver of the double blade._

_“Now, why don’t I teach you how to use it? We’ll start with changing the blades…”_

_Shaking, Fabian removed the blade from the razor, turning it over in his hands, resting it in his palm._

_He had learned to use it in his own way._

_He slipped the blade into his pocket, the now years-old razor long forgotten in the bottom of the drawer in Fabian’s en suite._

**

He thumbs the blade, flipping it over in his fingers, mesmerized by the reflection of the fluorescent lights dancing along the blade’s edge. 

He saw his own reflection, augmented by the poor excuse of a mirror. 

_Ugly._

He had never been insecure growing up. Although, of course he was. Everyone was insecure. 

But, he had never thought he was ugly. But recently, the thoughts came worming in. Every time he saw his reflection, or caught his own eye, all he could see was his flaws. His imperfections. It was awful. He just wanted to go back to being confident. He wanted to be confident. 

He needed to work harder. 

His reflection was distorted. He was grotesque, his face scarred, his body scarred. His wrists. 

In. _One. Two. Three. Four-_

His chest tightened. 

_Out. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven-_

His heart pounded in his chest. His thoughts rushed by, miles per second.

_Ugly, grotesque, scarred, imperfect, -----_

**_It'll stop. It would bring him clarity._ **

His escape.

Fabian dug the nails of his empty hand into his palm, squeezing his eyes closed. 

Tears spilled out as his eyes pressed closed, and he didn’t even try to hold them back. 

_Pathetic. Weeping. Seacasters do not weep._

He grabbed his bag and headed to the stalls.

The dizziness faded, the black spots in his vision dissolving away as Fabian slouched in the bathroom stall, heart pounding and chest heaving. Momentary clarity.

Through his pain, he didn’t even care to notice the blood seeping into his shirt. 

Fabian had become a pro at wrapping wounds. He could clean and dress a wound in minutes. 

Although, as the door to the locker room opened, he knew he didn’t have time to be careful. 

New sneakers squeaked on the tile, and Fabian heard the door close.

“Fabian? Dude, everything alright?” 

The senior he had demonstrated with. 

“Coach wanted me to come check on you?” He was getting closer, walking around the lockers. 

“I’m fine!” Fabian called out, his voice shaking only an imperceivable amount. 

_The Ball would notice._

Fabian quickly wrapped the gauze around his wrists, his hands shaking as he heard the squeak-squeak-squeaking of the sneakers get closer and closer. 

“Shit.” He said under his breath, as he nearly dropped the roll, but he recovered.

The kid came around the corner just as Fabian was pulling on his Letterman. 

_Last second. Safe._

“You good?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow, presumably at Fabian’s jostled appearance. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” The facade fell directly into place. His act was indistinguishable. He’d done this before and he’d do it again. 

“Alright.” The kid clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating throughout the empty locker room. “You’ve been in here for a while. ‘Thought you might have passed out or something.”

Fabian laughed, flashing a suave smile.

“Luckily I did not. Coach was right. I just need to sit this one out.”

His sleeves brushed against the gauze and he felt something catch. He suppressed a hiss of pain. 

“Yeah. Just wanted to check in.” The kid walked over and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy, now.” 

He patted his shoulder, once, twice, and then turned around and walked out. 

Fabian nodded, and pulled his sleeves down, fixing the thick tan wraps on his arm. 

No one would question his gauze hand wraps. No one would think that beneath his star quarterback letterman sleeves, lied an unsolvable crossword puzzle. An abandoned game of tic-tac-toe. 

He was Fabian Seacaster. His life ruled. 

He winced as his sleeves brushed against the bandages, which brushed against his skin.

He pulled his jacket closer to his body-

_Why was he so cold. Always so cold._

-grabbed his bag, refilled his bottle, and walked back into the gym, sitting down in the bleachers, opposite a group of freshman girls. 

He spent the next thirty minutes on the bleachers, half-listening to the girl’s giggling gossip, half-watching the sparring practice. 

He’d tried multiple times to rejoin the sparring practice, but Gorthalax dismissed him every time, insisting that: 

_“Dehydration is no joke, Fabian. Go sit back down. A break every now and then is good for ya!”_ He slapped him on the back, and gently pushed him towards the bleachers, back to his seat. 

As he sat back down, the freshman girls quieted, looking around at each other cautiously and shushing. 

Fabian looked at them, and they blanched.

“What’s..going on?” Fabian asked, and the girls giggled. 

“Are you and that...Ball kid dating?” One of them asked, as half the group burst into giggles and the other half rushed to shush her.  
“Katie!” 

Fabian spluttered, feeling his face heat up. For a moment, all he could do in response was blink, but he soon found his voice.

“What? No! Of course not! Why would you-?”

“So, is he single, then?” Another girl cut him off, immediately followed by her friends groaning. 

“No way, he’s totally gay, Libby.”

Fabian’s head was reeling. 

“What? How do you know that? Who told you-?”

“Oh, it’s like, totally obvious.”

“Yeah, and he’s like, head over heels for you.” Another added.

“Like, we thought you two were dating because of how he looked at you and-”

“-not even mentioning how you look at him, so we just put two and two together-”

Fabian’s head was _reeling._ Their voices all started to blur together and he could feel his heart rate speed up. 

His lungs were closing. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out there. He needed to fight. Clear his head. Get the adrenaline out of his system. 

He stood up, ready to run back out to practice, when his vision went black and the stands turned from under him. 

He was on his ass before he could even realize he was fainting. 

He was immediately swarmed by the girls, them all crowding him and bombarding him with worried questions.

“Woah you okay?” “Sit back down.” “Did you eat anything today?”

Fabian sat up, rubbing his back and waving the girls away. 

“I’m fine, just stood up too fast.” 

The girls looked at him skeptically.  
“You sure?” “That was so scary.” “Does that happen a lot?” 

“Not usually.” Fabian said. He pulled his jacket tighter around him. 

“Should we get Coach?” 

“No!” Fabian said, voice breaking. Pathetic.

“No,” He repeated, trying again. More calm. More cool. “I’m fine. Stood up too fast.”

“I don’t know…” “That was _so_ scary.” “We need to tell Coach.”

“Look,” Fabian ran a hand through his hair, looking out past the girls and into the gym. 

Gorthalax was busy with a freshman. She was holding her ax incorrectly and her stance was all wrong. 

The girls were staring at him, five eager faces, patiently waiting for his next words.

“I’m _fine_. I must have overworked myself. That, plus dehydration and standing up too fast, it must have just knocked me over for a second. I’m okay.” 

The girls looked to one another, before one of them spoke up. 

“Okay.” An elven girl, blonde hair covering half her face. 

The other girls looked at her, seemingly surprised. Like they’d forgotten she was there. 

“Yeah, uh, okay.” “Fine.” “I still think…”

Fabian nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Can we keep talking to you, then?” 

Half the group giggled, half the group groaned. 

He closed his eyes, wiping his hand down his face, miming exasperation. 

“Fine.” He said, although he was grateful for the company. And the positive attention wasn’t exactly unwanted as well.

The whistle blows, and it’s time to go. 

He stands slower this time, the stars not fully dissipating, but not overcoming his vision. 

The girls, on the other hand, spread out and disappeared, chattering and laughing as they hurried to the lockers. 

He thought he was safe, but as he grabbed his bag, he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

The elven girl was standing behind him, left behind by her friends. Forgotten. 

“I’m Ivy. Sorry, I know you’re, like, super busy and you have another class to get to and stuff but-”

“What’s up?” Fabian asked, leaning against the wall. Because he’s cool. He doesn’t have to go to class. He’s Fabian Seacaster. And he’s leaning against the wall because he’s cool. Not because he’s so dizzy and his vision is blurring out and he just wants to close his eyes and take a nap. No. He’s leaning against the wall to look suave and debonair. 

“I’m sorry about my friends. They had no right to ask you all those invasive questions about Riz and all that and-”

Fabian flushed, but he was too tired to truly react. 

“It’s fine. We’re just friends.”

_And the pain in your heart means otherwise. They know. They know._

“I know. And even if you _were_ more, it’s totally none of their business. I kept telling them to leave you alone, but they just ignored me.” 

Fabian watched as she looked back at the group, the last girl walking through the locker room door. They didn’t look back. Didn’t realize they were missing a member. 

“Is that your party?” Fabian asked. He rubbed his arm. He felt something catch again, as the bandages caught on his sleeve. He stopped.

“Yeah.” Ivy replied, looking back to Fabian. She pulled at her sweater sleeves. 

“They’re not going to wait for you?” 

“They never really do.” She ruffled at her bangs, turning to look back at the door, like she was expecting one of her party members to come rushing out, realizing they had forgotten someone. But no one did. And Ivy sighed, turning back to Fabian. “I don’t even know why I’m in their party. It seemed like a good idea on the first day but-”

“You can still switch.” Fabian said, interrupting her. “I mean, can’t you? Go talk to Jawbone? Or Augefort?”

“But..they’re my friends.” 

“They...left you.” Fabian said, as the class bell rang. 

Ivy jumped. 

“I’m going to be late.” She said, eyes widening. She rushed forward a few steps, before coming to a halt. 

Fabian followed her eyes to the doors of the gym, where a group of seniors were standing.

“Want me to walk with you to class?” He asked, walking up to Ivy and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

She nodded, muttering.

“They always go with me. Nobody bothers me when I’m with my party. Lucia’s a college of whispers bard. She knows things so nobody messes with her.”

“Is that why you don’t leave them?” Fabian asked as they began to walk. 

They passed the group of seniors, who opened their mouths to say something to Ivy but stopped when they saw Fabian. 

They greeted him, but he only nodded in response. A simple acknowledgment. He was cool. 

“I don’t want to know what she knows about me.” Ivy says, her voice just loud enough for Fabian to hear over the roar of the hallways. 

“How do you know-”

“I just do.” 

It was quiet for a moment, Fabian having no response to that. 

“What class are you headed to?” 

Fabian didn’t even hear her, instead he picked his arm back up, rubbing it. 

He made idle conversation with her as they maneuvered the halls. He dismissed her worries everytime she asked if he needed to get to his class. 

_So similar to The Ball. It’s the kind thing to do. For a friend._

_Only a friend._

Finally, she stopped walking, causing Fabian to bump into her. 

She turned around, apologizing.

“Uh, before you go, I...wanted to give you this.” She said, her voice quavering as she quickly brought her bag into her arms, looking for something.

She found what she was looking for and handed it to Fabian.

A business card. 

He put it away, not reading it. 

_Pathetic. Sad over a business card._

She bounced on her heels, looked down, looked back up, then opened the door to the classroom.

Just before entering, she turned back to Fabian. 

“You’re bleeding by the way.” Ivy said, pointing to the hem of his sleeves. 

She flashed him a shy smile and then disappeared into her class.

Fabian rushed to the bathroom, immediately going to the sinks.

Without a thought, he pulled up his jacket’s sleeve and removed the bandages, the angry lines staring at him as they wept.

He ran his arm under the sink, washing away the blood, then replaced the bandage. He could cast mending on his sleeve later. 

Fabian stuck his hand in his pocket, thumb searching for the cool metal, but felt something else inside. Something flat and thin, like the cards he used for The Ball’s business cards. 

He pulled it out.

“Ayana Burns: Therapist. Eating disorder and mental health counseling”

His heart dropped and he leaned his back against the sink. 

He pocketed the card and slid down until he was sitting on the bathroom tiles, head brushing the sinks. He didn’t need to go to class anyway. 

  
  


He wakes up to a ringing noise. He hadn’t even realized he was sleeping until he woke up. 

Fabian scrambled for his crystal, the ring tone echoing in the empty bathroom. 

_Did anyone find him? Why didn’t anyone wake him up?_

He doesn’t get to his crystal in time, but he does see that this wasn’t the first call he missed. 

Adaine🔮: 5 missed calls

As he was looking, a new notification came up. 

New Voice message in mailbox. 

He opened it, plugging in his headphones. 

“What the _fuck_ did you do? Do you have any idea what you did to her? Or are you too dense to understand basic consequences? What could you have possibly been thinking? Oh wait, silly me, you don’t think. You’re Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of the late, great Bill Seacaster, the shit son of a shit pirate. You never think about anyone other than your- _fucking-_ self.

If you ever come near me or her again, I will shove my spellbook so far up your ass you’ll be coughing up pages for a month. I will make you swallow that damn safety blanket you always carry. If you so much as mildly inconvenience my sister again, there is nowhere you can run, no place you can hide, that will let you escape what will be coming for you.

Choke on grapes you insufferable shit. Lose my number.”

Adaine’s voice poured into Fabian’s brain, her words spitting venom. 

He didn’t know what he did, but he deserved it.

When the message ended, he hit replay. And then again. And again. 

The bell rang, but he didn’t get up. 

Someone came into the bathroom, but he didn’t get up. Whoever it was turned around and walked back out. 

Fabian counts the bells. He waits for the bell to go. To go home. To pass by his mama on the chaise lounge, to wave at Cathilda as she tidies up the empty wine bottles, to vanish into his room, putting in his headphones and vanishing as well. 

The bell finally comes, the hallways filling with students excitedly jabbering to their friends. Fabian stands up, slowly. Slowly. 

But then he checks his crystal, and sees a new text from Aelwyn.  
Aelwyn **🔥** : I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. 

Fabian deleted the notification and headed into a stall, loading up Adaine’s voicemail once again. 

A text lit up his crystal, the notification sound momentarily quieting Adaine’s venomous voice. 

The Ball 🔍: Hey! I’m actually out early. You still at school?  
The Ball 🔍: We can go straight to my place instead of meeting at Basrars?

Fabian had forgotten all about their planned meet-up.

Wiping his tears with his sleeves, he opened the message. 

_yeah, I’m still at school._

_meet you out front?_

Fabian exited the stall, the bubble of privacy bursting as he made his way into the halls. 

His crystal buzzed. 

The Ball 🔍: See you there. 

Fabian kicked rocks as he waited for Riz, thumb rubbing the edge of the card Ivy had given him. 

“Woah, Fabian.”

Fabian jumped at Riz’s voice, but smiled when he saw him. 

“What happened?” Riz asked, ears tilting down in worry. 

“What do you mean?” Fabian anxiously ruffled his hair. 

“Your face is all red. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Fabian replied, but he knew The Ball wouldn’t buy it. “I’m fine. Just...had a rough day.” 

The Ball nodded. 

“Did you take The Hangman today?”

Fabian laughed, summoning the motorbike. 

He ignored the electricity that shot through him as The Ball wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“Shit, man, I completely forgot about your date.” Riz said, as they walked through the parking lot of the remodeled Luxury Apartments. “Did you want to swing by your place to get your things?”

“Date?” 

“With Aelwyn?”

Fabian sighed.

“The Ball, there was no date. We don’t...we don’t do that much anymore.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a moment, as they walked on the crumbling sidewalk up to the lobby. 

“Why did you..say you had one?”

“Because I was frustrated. And people were staring.” 

“Since when do you care that people are staring?” 

“Since...always, I guess.” Fabian said. 

“Really?” Riz asked, tilting his head and looking up at him. “You always seem to love the crowd.”

“Negative attention.” Fabian said, shrugging. 

Riz nodded.

“So, wanna tell me about your day?” Riz asked, bumping his shoulder against Fabian. 

“When we get inside?” Fabian looked down at The Ball, his eye most definitely betraying his emotions. 

“Of course, come on.” Riz hurried along and Fabian trailed behind him, head in a cloud as he thought about how he would explain everything that happened. 

“Everything’s going to shit, The Ball.” Fabian said, leaning back on the stained and sorrowful couch in The Ball’s small apartment. 

Riz turned around, walking over to Fabian and handing him a warm cup of tea as he sat down next to him. 

“What do you mean?” 

The Ball was always so nice to Fabian. He didn’t deserve it. He was so rude to The Ball when they first met. For a while after they met. He was just trying to protect himself. 

_He won’t know how you feel if you pretend you don’t feel it._

But The Ball never stopped being nice. 

“I mean..” Fabian began, but trailed off. How much could he say? “...I feel like everything is just...spiraling out of control.” 

Riz looked up at him, silently waiting for him to continue. So he did, ignoring every nerve in his body that begged him to stay silent. 

“Adaine called me.” He said, pulling out his crystal. “I didn’t answer because I fell asleep.” 

When Riz went to interrupt, Fabian spoke over him. 

“I’m tired a lot lately. I didn’t even notice I had fallen asleep until I was waking up to the call.” 

“Where...were you?” 

“Bathroom. By the druid classes.” 

“ _Fabian..”_

“Adaine called me and I missed all her calls. She left a message.” 

_She hates you._

“She hates me.” Fabian added, looking down at the heavily-trodden carpet, greying with age. 

“She doesn’t hate you, Fabian. Why would you-”

“Play it.” He handed his crystal to Riz, who unlocked it and opened his voicemail box. 

Before Riz could press play, Fabian put his hand out. 

“She’s right. Don’t get mad at her. She’s right.”

The message played, and Fabian could feel Riz tense beside him 

Fabian had the message memorized. 

“How could she _say_ that?” Riz asked. He went to stand, but Fabian pulled him back down onto the couch.

“Don’t get mad. She’s right. I deserved it.”

“Fabian, what did you do?” 

Fabian shrugged. 

“If you don’t know what you did, how do you know you deserve it?” Riz asked, rubbing his face.

“No, I-” _How much could he say?_ “I know what I did it’s just-”

“It’s just _what_?”

“She’s doing it too.” 

“Doing what?” Riz asked, his eyes looking up at Fabian, searching his face, as Fabian looked down, refusing to see him. “What did she do?”

Fabian shuddered, the emotions he’d suppressed for so long threatening to overtake him. 

He shook his head.

“You wouldn’t understand, The Ball.” 

“Oh yeah? Try me.” 

Fabian shook his head again, leaning forward to put his face in his hands. 

Fabian felt a hand go to his back as Riz rubbed his back gently. 

“Does this have something to do with why you didn’t eat lunch?” He asked, slowly. 

Without thinking, Fabian nodded, a gasp shuddering through his frame. 

_Men don’t cry. Leaders don’t cry. You’re a seacaster, Boy. Act like one._

Tears stung in the corners of Fabian’s eyes and he buried his palms into his eyes, desperate to stop what had already started. 

“Fabian, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Riz said, voice kind and soft. 

“No, no I’m not. I’m not okay.” 

“And that’s okay, too.”

And with that, Fabian broke. 

As cliche as it was, he felt like a dam had been broken, tears pouring out of him as he sobbed. Ugly, wrenching sobs. Even when he had no more tears, (perhaps he really _was_ dehydrated), he hiccuped and heaved. 

He lamented his anger, his hatred of himself and his body, of the things he’s done and things he’d never do. He told Riz everything, through gasping, shaking sobs. 

Everything. From the first day, with the competition and the party. To today, with the snickering girls and the call from Adaine. 

The whole time, Riz kept his hands around Fabian, bringing him close and hugging him tight. It made Fabian feel safe. Safer than he’d ever felt. 

The Ball’s arms felt like his own personal moon haven, a secret hidden spot that only they had access to. 

Even as Fabian’s words dissolved into intolerable sounds, Riz continued to comfort him, whispering soft encouragements and rubbing small circles into his sides. 

“It’s okay.” He murmured. “You’re okay.” 

And maybe he’d be okay. In this moment, with The Ball telling him he’d be okay, Fabian felt that it might just be true. 

Fabian pulled back, wiping his eyes and nose.

_He must look disgusting._

But Riz wouldn’t care. Riz didn’t even seem to notice. 

“Thanks, The Ball.” Fabian said, voice hoarse and strained. 

“Of course.” He said, smiling fondly. 

It was silent for a moment, before Fabian leaned against Riz, leaning his head on top of Riz’s. 

The silence was comfortable, 

Riz moved, pulling Fabian down so that he was laying on the couch, stretched with his head in Riz’s lap. 

Fabian awakes to the sound of muffled arguing. Or maybe it’s just normal arguing and he’s the one who’s muffled. 

Whatever it is, he sits up, slowly, every part of his body screaming in protest.

“Hey,” He hears, and he jolts slightly from shock. 

The Ball slides into the room, and it’s only then that Fabian realizes he is not on the cruddy couch anymore. He is in a small, yet surprisingly comfortable bed. 

The Ball walks over to Fabian, setting down a tray on the makeshift nightstand beside the bed. He sits down on the edge.

“You feeling better?” He asked, eyes kind and voice gentle. 

He’s so nice to Fabian. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Not really,” Fabian says, telling the truth for once. He chuckles dryly. “I actually feel worse.” When Riz doesn’t respond, he adds: “Head’s killing me. Everything’s sore.” He stretches, trying to ease his tense muscles, and he hears The Ball’s breath catch in his throat. 

Quickly, he returns his arms to his lap.

“What?” He asks, absentmindedly rubbing his arms.

“Fabian…” The Ball says, voice trailing off. He reaches out, slowly, and carefully takes Fabian’s hand into his own. 

Fabian ignores the bolt of electricity that shoots up his arm. He pretends his heart is pounding solely from pain. 

The Ball takes Fabians hand and pulls gently, turning it wrist-up. 

It’s at this moment that Fabian realizes what was happening. It’s at this moment that Fabian knows it’s too late. 

He wants to steal his hand away, to push Riz off and run. To run and run and never stop until he’s home. Alone in his room.

But he doesn’t. He knows that he’s too weak to run and too cowardly to try. As well, something inside him was waiting for this to happen. Some selfish part of him is enjoying this, laughing with glee as Riz looks at him, moving in slow motion to expose the dark-red-nearly-brown stain at the sleeve of his letterman. Some part of him screams: “yes! Finally! The monster is revealed! He knows now! Now he sees you for the grotesque creature that you are!”

Fabian tears his eyes away from his arm and looks to Riz’s face.

Riz is looking up at him, eyebrows pressed in worry, eyes wide full of sorrow. 

He gently places a clawed hand on the sleeve, and Fabian bites his lip to contain a hiss. 

Riz notices immediately and withdraws, tears brimming his eyes.

“Fabian…” He says again. 

Fabian can’t take it anymore. It feels like something is about to happen, and yet nothing is happening. The air buzzes with potential energy, filling the air and turning it to sludge. 

“What, the Ball?” He attempts at a snap. It comes out soft and broken.

Riz doesn’t say anything, instead he lurches forward and wraps his small arms around Fabian, pulling him into a tight hug. 

It’s Riz’s turn to cry. 

Fabian hugs him back, shaking with dry sobs with no tears left to cry. 

Once more, Fabian returns to the waking world. Once more, Fabian is muffled, hearing hints and notions of words, sounds rounded and soft, the calming nonsense flowing over him, so very different yet so very similar to the sharp, loud, angry muffled worlds that came from his Papa, when he was alive. 

He tries to pinpoint the voices speaking. He looks around Riz’s room, noting that Riz is gone again. 

A few words cuts through, sharp and clear. 

“ _He’s hurting himself!_ ” 

Riz’s voice. Fabian would recognize it anywhere. He sounds so pained. So hurt.

Fabian did that. Fabian made him like that. 

He was so selfish. He should have hidden them better. Should have been more careful. Should have, should have, should have. 

But he didn’t. And now he has to live with it. 

“Woah, now. Riz-” Jawbone’s voice elevates slightly, enough so Fabian can hear the beginning of the sentence, before returning to muffled nonsense. 

Fabian was too numb to really process what he knew was about to happen. Riz had told Jawbone. Jawbone knew. Everyone would know soon. 

He should have hidden it better. They didn’t need this in their lives.

He expected to feel something when he heard Jawbone knocked lightly on Riz’s door. He expected to feel a bolt of electricity run through him, expected to have adrenaline course through his veins, giving him just the amount of energy he needed to run. To run and run and run. 

But he didn’t. He felt nothing. He felt like he had just gotten back from the beach. Like he had gone on a trip to the coast, spent the day in the sand and the waves instead of pressed against the cool tile of a school bathroom. His body ached, his head lurched. But he felt nothing else. Just a dull exhaustion and a vague headache. 

Jawbone came into the room, giving him a soft: “Heeyy! Fabian!” and a “How are you feeling, kiddo?” 

Fabian didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. His mouth was glued shut and his limbs were full of sand. He looked at Jawbone, following him with his one good eye. His eyepatch was off, likely folded on the table next to him. Riz probably brought him a glass of water too. Riz took better care of him than he took care of himself.

“Did you have a nice day at school? Heard your bard classes are-”

“I know he told you.” He said, voice strained and hoarse.

Jawbone’s face softened. He let out a long sigh, looking down to the ground, before looking back to Fabian. He crossed over what little distance was left between the place where he was standing and the bed, sitting down hesitantly.

“Then I guess you know what I’m about to say.”

“That I’m fucked up?” He said, voice cracking. 

“God, no, Fabian.” Jawbone said. “No, not at all. Fabian, you’re struggling. Riz is worried about you. _I’m_ worried about you. I want to _help_ you.”

Fabian would have protested if he didn’t catch a flash of green from the doorframe. 

“I don’t think you can.” He said quietly, looking down at his stained sleeves, seeing them for the first time. 

“Fabian, I’m going to give it to you straight, and I want you to listen to me.”

Jawbone’s voice was kind but stern. Fabian looked up at him, swallowing nothing. He felt his throat rub against itself, completely dry.

“Now, I’m not saying that it’s going to be easy. I’m not saying it’s going to be quick. But god damn it, we’re going to help you get through this.”

Fabian nodded, not knowing what else to do. He slowly slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small slip of cardstock that Ivy had given him, and handed it to Jawbone.

“A girl at school gave me this today.” He said, quietly.

He saw Riz creep around the doorframe, peeking into the room.

“And do you think that’s why you-”

“I did..I did this before that. During battle-prep.” 

Jawbone nodded, then quickly turned his head to look behind him.

“Hey, Riz, why don’t you give us some privacy, okay? Maybe give your mom a call? Tell her what’s going on?”

Riz let out a sound, at having been caught, but closed the door and, presumably, went to call his mom.

Jawbone was quiet for a few seconds, waiting for Riz to get on the phone, before turning back to Fabian.

“Okay.” He continued. “Do you know what could have triggered this, then?”

Fabian shrugged. He really didn’t remember, if he was being honest. The whole day was a blur.

“I don’t really remember.” He said. “The whole day was a blur.”

Jawbone nodded.

“Alright. That’s perfectly understandable.”

There was another few seconds of silence, and Fabian could hear Riz talking on the phone. He spoke in Goblin, the words sliding into Fabian’s ears with crystal clarity, yet remaining wholly unintelligible. He wanted so desperately to know what Riz was saying. To know what he was- and wasn’t -telling his mom. 

“Do you want me to help you call?” Jawbone asked, pulling Fabian back into the conversation. 

“Call..?” He asked, and then remembered the business card he had handed to Jawbone.

_Ayana Burns: Therapist. Eating disorder and mental health counseling._

“This isn’t exactly my area of expertise, kiddo.” Jawbone said, his voice soft and warm. Kind. Fatherly. “I want you to get the best help you can.”

So, with Jawbone’s help, Fabian called the number. He really did need Jawbone’s help. 

When a woman’s voice answered, Fabian completely froze, managing a: “Hi, uh, hello..” Before shutting down. 

Jawbone calmly took the crystal from Fabian and spoke:

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if I could make an appointment with Ayana Burns? Or at least find out how I could go about setting one up?”

He couldn’t hear what the woman responded with, but he watched Jawbone smile slightly, nodding to the woman who could not see him. 

“Right, right. Fabian, they’ll need to do some intake paperwork first and-”

Fabian just nodded, trying his best to listen, to pay attention to the words that held the fate of his future. He should be panicking. He should be hiding. He should be running away. He should be feeling something, anything.

Why didn’t he feel anything?

_He’d do anything to feel something._

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours pass before Jawbone finally thanks the woman and hangs up, handing Fabian his crystal. 

“I know this must be a lot to take in,” Jawbone starts, resting a soft paw on Fabian’s shoulder. “But you have everyone here supporting you. Nobody has to know, unless you want them to, but just know that you have everyone’s support.”

“Thank you, Jawbone.” He replies, though his voice remains monotone. 

He’s so tired. So drained. He wants to go back to sleep.

“Now, I can go get Riz, get you some water, maybe a juice or something, and we can just go from there. How’s that sound?”

Fabian nodded, looking down at his crystal. 

Adaine. Adaine’s message playing in his head. Her words singed into his mind, the soundwaves trapped in his ears, bouncing around, repeating and repeating. He didn’t need to listen to it to hear it.

He told Jawbone. At least, he thinks he did. He didn’t really remember all that he told him. Jawbone was more concerned with the whole: “how long has this been going on?” and “is there anything else going on?”. If he told Jawbone, Jawbone didn’t bring it up again. 

Riz slipped into the room as Jawbone left, sliding beside him through the narrow door frame. 

“Did..everything go okay?” Riz asked, tentatively. He stood in the doorway, in front of the closed door. He looked worried, but not in the way he was earlier. He shifted the weight between his legs, wringing his hands like he was warming them by a fire. He looked guilty. 

“I guess.” Fabian responded. 

Jawbone would want him to apologize to Adaine. Aelwyn too. But how? How could he undo what he’d done?

 _She’s doing it too._ He recalled himself saying. It was true. She was just as deep as he was. At least, in the eating department. It was her idea in the first place. Her suggestion. But Fabian went along with it. He pushed her just as she pushed him. Mutually aided destruction.

“Fabian… are you...mad at me?” Riz asked, voice quiet. 

At that, Fabian looked up. 

Riz’s eyes shone, and his ears were flat against his face. 

“What? No!” He said. “No, Riz, I could never be…” He sighed, patting the spot on the bed next to him. “I’m not mad. I promise. Just...drained. Numb.”

Riz all-but-leapt onto the bed, the springs creaking as he landed. 

A spark jolted through his body as Riz’s arm touched his. He didn’t pull away, instead, he leaned into it.

He heard Riz’s breath catch in his throat, before Riz relaxed, leaning into him as well.

“I was worried you’d hate me.” Riz whispered. 

“I could never hate you, The Ball.” Fabian’s heart ached. He wanted so bad to wipe that sorrowful look off of Riz’s face. He would do anything to see him smile. Anything to keep him from ever looking like this again. “You’re my best friend.”

He felt Riz shift, and his heart sunk. Did he do something wrong? Did he overstep? 

“Fabian..” Riz started. “You’re my best friend too.” 

There was something else there. Something else to that sentence. Was there a “but” coming? A second shoe to drop?

“...thanks, The Ba-”

“No, wait, let me speak. I just needed a second to...collect my thoughts.”

Fabian turned, leg still touching Riz, but enough so that he could look at him as he spoke. 

“I..I don’t know if this is the best time, or if what I’m about to say is, like, helpful at all, but-” His words rushed out, sentences tripping over his lips, jumbling and fumbling just the way his hands wrung themselves over and over. Fabian wanted to reach out and grab them, to take them in his own. 

“Shit, Fabian, you mean so much to me.” Riz said, taking in a sharp breath. “Like, a lot, a lot. More than...more than anyone else, really. Besides my mom, I guess.” 

“You’re my best-”

“Best friend. Yeah, I know. And that’s how best friends work. You like them more than your other friends. That’s why it’s your _best_ friend.” He was overthinking his words. Fabian could practically hear the gears in Riz’s mind spinning. “But this is different. I...I’ve never had a best friend before, but I..I don’t think it’s supposed to feel like this.” 

Fabian’s breath caught in his throat.

“Feel… like what?”

Riz bit his lip, hands once more beginning their spirals.

This time, Fabian did reach out, taking Riz’s soft ( _so soft_ ) hands into his own.

“Feel like what, Riz?”

Riz looked down at their hands, turning his around so that he was holding Fabian’s as well, fingers interlocking. 

“Like this.” He shrugged. “My heart..hurts when I'm around you. Worse when I’m not.”

Fabian smiled weakly. 

“Everything reminds me of you.” He continued. “I saw a flier at school the other day and it had a banner on the top, and the first thing I thought of was you, because of your dancing sheet.” 

Fabian’s face heated and he smiled a bit wider.

“A girl at school handed me a business card today.” Fabian said, before adding, “It wasn’t her’s, it was a therapist’s. Jawbone and I just made an appointment with her.

“Anyway, I didn’t read it when she handed it to me, but all I could think about was you.” 

Riz laughed, and Fabian’s heart soared. 

He’d do anything to keep his smiling. 

It was quiet for a moment after that, the two enjoying each other’s company. Riz never took his hands back, and Fabian absentmindedly ran his thumb over his knuckles.

“I’m so glad you’re fighting.”

“I’m glad I am too.”

  
  


After that day, he’d gone to apologize to Adaine, but she was in tears, wrapping her arms around him in a hug before he had even knocked on the front door of Mordred Manor. 

Aelywn had told Adaine the full story, going to her sister and then Jawbone after that. He told her it was okay, and that he did not see himself as wholly un-responsible. He and Aelwyn were playing the same game. It was mutual. 

It took a few weeks, but their relationship was back to the easy, friendly normal it was just days before that phone call. Maybe even stronger, with how well Aelywn was doing in recovery. 

As for Fabian, Ayana said he'd have ups and downs. It wasn't going to be easy.

Some days it didn't even seem worth it. Some days it seemed easier to let himself fall back into comfortable numbness, to let the world around him go muffled. But then he'd see ~~The Ball's~~ _Riz's_ face breaking into a smile when he saw Fabian, and he knew he'd do anything to keep that smile on Riz's face.

And maybe that day, when Fabian’s life had all but crumbled to pieces, wasn’t the best time for the start of something new. But that was almost a month ago. Who knew what the future may hold. 

But for now, he had his friends. He wasn’t alone. 

He may hurt, but he does not suffer alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi i love you! Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> What's your favorite line/verse from Achilles Come Down?  
> Mine are: "And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it" and "Feel your breath course frankly below/See life as a worthy opponent"
> 
> As promised, here's my Fabian playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0rJ4KqP5z1sh2hwqOD3OhC?si=cySCfnpQQ2m3gjFP-OW_Xw  
> Feel free to check out any of my other playlists! (I have Aelwyn one and a Riz one as well)


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